


Winter Breath

by ShadowSelina



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, I LIKE ANDUIN HE'S THE MOST PRECIOUS BOY, M/M, everyone adores anduin, out of character included
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 04:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18003416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowSelina/pseuds/ShadowSelina
Summary: The city of Stormwind crumbled under the Horde’s attack, and the High King of Alliance fell with it. To say the current Lich King was not pleased with the situation would be a complete underestimation.Meanwhile, a particular black dragon also emerged from the shadow, and swore revenge for the one he held dear.





	Winter Breath

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Blood of Lions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14489520) by [KaedeRavensdale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaedeRavensdale/pseuds/KaedeRavensdale). 



> Thanks for reading this work!  
> So basically this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, also I'm a noob to WOW universe... Canon divergence and out-of-characterness are guaranteed, but I will try to keep the later one as low as possible. I will also try to keep my grammar as correct as possible, but please point out if you see some stupid mistakes.  
> Regarding the plot, I have some ideas, and hopefully I will be able to finish this.  
> If you have any suggestions, feel free to say it! I welcome any form of advice!

** Chapter 1  **

    It took almost one minute for Highlord Darion Mograine to snap out of the shock and frowned at the Deathlord of the Ebon Blade. “What do you mean? ‘a direct request from the Lich King’? ” 

    To his mild surprise, the Deathlord pretty much flinched at that question – it was somewhat unusual, considering all the fight she’d gone through. “Yeah, it’s just like that. The Lich King requested our help.” 

    “Well, pray tell, what kind of business would even bother the Lich King so much that he requests the help of his arch enemy?” 

He said that one with a few ounces of sarcasm; what he really didn’t expect was for the Deathlord to swallow hard and blink. It took her a good few seconds to form the sentence: 

“Stormwind has fallen.” 

The buzzing hall of Archerus went silent; every death knight present stared at their direction, and Mograine heard a few of them gasped. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that the Deathlord had grown up in that city, that many members of the Ebon Blade used to work for it before they were turned, and that the current Lich King had been so, so close to the Wrynn family. He cursed inwardly. “I am sorry.” 

She merely sighed and waved at him. “It’s OK.” 

“…So it’s true then, Stormwind has fallen. What is Bolvar’s request? Does he require us to help and protect  its citizens?” 

“No. Most civilians had been evacuated to Ironforge. No need to worry about that.” 

“…What else didn’t you tell me?” 

“Well, umm...The Lich King request us to retrieve High King Anduin Wrynn’s body.” 

He heard the panicking whispers of his fellow knights; Darion Mograine opened his mouth wanting to say something, but ultimately decided to close it. He didn’t know much about the young king, but judging from the way the Deathlord slumped into her chair and covered her face, he must have been respected and loved by many, if not all of his people. 

“We – are really sorry.” This time it was Thassarian who said it for him. The Death Knight had actually gone to Stormwind and faced members of its royal family before, perhaps he did understand her feeling better. 

“You could say that to the Lich King himself, you know. He needs it more than me.” The Deathlord sighed, “For whatever-up-there’s sake. I can’t even imagine how he feels.” 

“It doesn’t really matter now… What is gone is gone.” Mograine forced himself to gather his thought, “but why would the Lich King require his body?” 

“He didn’t say anything about it, and I didn’t dare ask. But I can say he has plans for that boy.” The Deathlord shrugged, “Not that I wanted to know anyway.” 

“So it’s decided?” 

She huffed. “Surely we can’t just let the King’s body rot in ruins. Thassarian will lead a secret team to find him. I’ll stay here watching over Bolvar, in case he decided to send the Scourge against Sylvanas Windrunner. And Thassarian?” 

“Yes?” 

“Be quick. And don’t break him even further.” 

“Understood.” 

The knights soon disappeared through the death gate. The Deathlord stared into the howling snowstorm of Ice Crown, deep in thought. 

\- - Meanwhile - - - 

    Elwynn Forest was devastated. Trees were burned to ashes and the earth black and barren; Smoke and plague lingered in the air like a dense, suffocating fog. There were no bird songs, no laughter… everything that used to be here was gone. 

The forest was silent; no life can exist on this damned land. 

This was the scene that welcomed Wrathion when he stumbled out of the portal. 

It was so different. So different from what he was told about this city. But the black dragon paid it no mind; he shifted into his true form and raced directly to the ruins of what used to be Stormwind. 

Perhaps he still had a chance. Perhaps… it wasn’t too late. An almost impossible notion, but at this time it was the only thought that prevented him from madness and insanity.  

How foolish and arrogant it had been for him to leave. He should have known. HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN. 

Fortunately, Wrathion encountered no attack on his way into the ruined city; Sylvanas’ force had likely made a temporary retreat, and his caution appeared to be unnecessary. So he quickly dropped on to the ground and rushed to the ruins of the Dwarf District.  

According to the information he got and his intuition, this was the last place Anduin had stayed, helping to evacuate the citizens in the underground tram tunnels – which is now an unrecognizable pile of rubbles and broken metals. Wrathion forced himself to breathe, and started summoning his magic in an attempt to locate his friend. 

Then he saw him – Anduin’s shape, under the ruins, broken and motionless – yet still pulsing with a sliver of life. Wrathion felt his heartbeat accelerate; fearing he might lose him, he used magic again and lifted all rubbles in one fluent motion. 

And finally, he was able to embrace his long lost friend. 

“Anduin!” Wrathion called out to him urgently, yet he did not respond. The blond man had certainly grown over their years of separation: he was taller and had a much better build, but he couldn't care more about it now. Anduin was losing too much blood; red liquid flew out of the gaping wound on his chest, as the connection holding him to this land kept fading away. Desperate as he was, Wrathion could only watch him die – he was not skilled in any form of healing magic after all. 

“Anduin, please! Stay with me!” 

It seemed to work this time. Anduin struggled to breathe, his eyelashes fluttering as he tried to focus his gaze on the dragon’s face. 

“Anduin - ” Wrathion’s voice finally broke under rage and grief, as he returned the King’s gaze. Recognition flashed in those blue eyes; and then Anduin smiled, a smile so delicate and fragile as his fingers twitched in an attempt to raise his hand –  

And then he was gone.  

Wrathion stared, grief-stricken, as the High King of alliance let out his last breath. All those memories they shared – those days they had in Pandaria, those nights they spent playing Jihui, and those affectionate looks the young prince would give him – were now all meaningless and gone. 

_     AND IT WAS YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT _

The wail of a black dragon echoed through the sky like the howling wind before the snowstorm. 

 


End file.
